


Delivery!

by kyburg



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, Shawarma, age rating for language only I swear, galaga, nomnomnom, you too Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/pseuds/kyburg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the following prompt over at Dreamwidth's comment fest in theaviary "Fic with Maria Hill interacting with Steve, Clint, and/or Natasha as friends or, at the least, friendly."</p>
<p>What could be nicer than being brought home the doggie bag?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery!

Sunset, after the longest day Maria Hill could remember in recent memory. Standing fore at the windows on the bridge of the helicarrier, Maria took a moment to note the sun going down while half listening to the sounds of repair going on all around her. The airship had taken hits on every deck, externally and internally – she groaned and rattled louder than the chatter of the agents still on duty reading reports to each other, checking and rechecking status.

None of them were calling to her with new issues. Idly scratching an itch at her temple, she winced when the finger came away with dried blood on it. Gingerly touching the top of her head, she confirmed that yup, that had gotten hit too. Temple and cheek still ached a bit, known and noted.

All the smoke in the sky was turning this sunset into a total knockout, though. 

_Don’t think about him. Don’t think about what he would have said. Don’t think about him never coming back again. He’s not the only one, not even the first or the last one. Don’t. Just, don’t._

But turning to look at how the light bathed the bridge, she sighed and allowed herself a deep breath as she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. He’d have said something about silver linings, and how no bad turn went without changing things for the better and wasn’t that an amazing shade of mauve.

It was rose, cream, orange…some purple and red now, as it got darker. Without all the lights back online, the light from the window was brighter than anything else on the bridge. The fingers moved to tap her chin as her eyes threatened to leak again and she turned back to the windows so nobody would see.

_Would only scare them. And then embarrass me. Nope, not today._

Taking the corporate breath, she walked back to the com and began calling up her own set of reports, logging in and adding her own notes to them.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the light faded and the stars that could still peek through the remaining smoke came out. It also got chilly. As complete life support was still offline for repairs, heating and cooling to comfort levels wouldn’t be possible for a few days. Maria began to wish for a hot cup of coffee, then tried to remember when she’d had that – or a meal last.

Had it really only been that Luna bar yesterday? Sighing and pushing the desire for food aside again for the moment, Maria idly noted the incoming hail from the tower of the arrival of one of the Quinjets. “Hill, here.” 

“M’am, are you still on the bridge?” Rogers.

Shifting her weight, she couldn’t quite repress the wry grin. “Why yes, Captain. Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, well – “ Treated to the sound of the mike being bumped, hissing noises that sounded very much like one person being shushed by at least four others. “Please…if you would, don’t go anywhere. We’ll come to you.”

“I’m not exactly up for company right now, you understand – “

“Just wanted to know where you were. We’ll be right there.” Right on cue, the carrier groaned audibly as the jet touched down outside, engines flaring loudly as it came to a halt. It also landed hard, bringing up more than one head at the noise. “Must have been the one they took down there, children. As you were.”

_I thought Fury released them for the night. Someone forgot their toothbrush or something? Honestly –_

Rechecking some minutia, she heard the door open with a clatter of conversation, strident and hopelessly jumbled. Something about waffles, slumber parties and robotics. Loudest of all, Stark. Of course, as usual and if he didn’t shut up, she was going to toss him out an airlock.

That’s when she smelled garlic. Garlic – with rosemary and onions. Beef – or lamb. Maybe both. Then Natasha Romanov was there, gently pushing her away from the com – but firmly, looking her in the eyes as she logged herself in. “Hi honey, we’re home.”

“Ah-ha! I told you – should have made book on it. Would have made a mint.” Tony Stark, sweeping in carrying a large white take-out bag, one hand above and one below. “Here, brought you dinner. Don’t worry – I went first. It’s delicious.”

They were behind him. They were all behind him. And that bag was definitely the source of the smell. Wait a minute – they all positively reeked of it. 

_He calls me sugar, honey, baby – any of that – I’m sending him back to the moon._

There was no refusing that bag of food, she only had time to note its arrival before it was pushed against her chest and she was catching it in both hands – a part of her noting the shine of the arc reactor through the black t-shirt he had on – and then there was two hands holding her shoulders and she was being kissed right between the eyes. Fast, just a brush of lips - too fast to do much more than register Tony Stark had fucking kissed her without even saying hello and he was gone.

Blinking, she looked up and it was Banner in his place. “Hi.” Hell, they’re all lined up behind him. Son of a - 

She almost dropped the bag. “Sorry, sorry – I’m sorry.” When had she missed he had eyes like a baby seal? _I’m sure he is._ He tucked another white bag on top of the other one. “They had cookies. And baklava. Is that okay? I’m sorry…really am. For. Everything.”

“We’ll talk later.” The words were out before she realized she’d said them. “No problem.” That got a lopsided smile and he was gone as well.

“Hi, sorry it’s dirty. Tony’s place is kind of beat up right now.” Steve Rodgers, with a bottle of single-malt scotch capped with a hotel-grade glass tumbler. Turning, she handed the bags to Natasha who took them with a wry grin so she could take the bottle like a queen accepting her scepter. Rogers noted the bruising at temple and cheek , eyes flicking up to the top of her head and narrowing. A gentle sweep across the top of her head, a pat on the shoulder and he was heading to meet up with his team.

Thor was next. Thor didn’t say anything – just looked her in the eye with eyes so wet and blue they hurt to look at. Then he hugged her. Just long enough to make her wonder if it would hurt to get squished holding a bottle of scotch against a God of Thunder – and finding it hadn’t before she was released. And then he was looking at the top of her head as well. “Doctor? A moment, if you please?”

At the door, quietly talking with Stark, Banner perked as he was mentioned and trotted back to Thor. “Yeah, I saw that.” There was nothing else to do but incline her head for a closer look. “See, superficial. Nothing to worry about. Head wounds always bleed a lot – she’s fine, Thor.” Satisfied, Thor nodded once more – once she had met his eyes again, of course. And then turned to leave as well. “Take a couple of aspirin and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“ _Come on guys._ Ten floors of R  & D, and twenty floors of lofts – Pepper’s already there and tells me there’s a bunch of them with only the pictures on the floor and some stuff knocked off the shelves. Plenty of room for everyone. _Let’s go._ ”

Thor actually rolled his eyes. Banner only laughed softly, ducking his head.

Oh, this is just too much. _Stark, get off my boat._ “Hey Stark. Fuck you!”

Eyebrows raised, he placed a hand over his chest and cocked his head. “Fuck me? Fuck me? Why Agent Hill, are you wishing me sex? Why thank you! Thank you very much! You too, dear. Fuck you too.”

And then he was inside the door, Rogers behind him blushing furiously as Banner caught up with them, tugging Thor along behind him.

Then they were gone, but not before she heard the dulcet strains of ‘Don’t You Worry About A Thing’ coming from the elevator. Someone was singing Stevie Wonder tunes. _I did not just hear that._

“There’s no way. I can’t drink this, I’m on duty.” She looked down at the bottle. Thirty year old single malt, if it was a day. And the bottle was half empty already. “Son of a bitch.”

Where was Barton – “Hey.” _Behind me. Of course._ Turning, she found herself hugging the bottle even tighter looking up into a wry face that likely matched her own. 

“I’m on duty.”

“No, you’re not.” Natasha, tapping on the com panel, idly kicked a chair over. “I’ve got it. Go eat your dinner.”

Taking the chair in one hand, her elbow in another, Barton lead her over to sit down next to him as he logged onto a console himself. “Let me tell you how to handle Tony Stark right now. By the way, he means well.” Taking the bags back from Natasha, he took the bottle away and put it on the desk then opened the larger bag and put it in her lap. Then he opened the bottle and poured two fingers into the glass, neat. “Drink his damn scotch and eat his damn leftovers.” Opening the bag, he placed in her lap and then leaned back and folded his arms. “Nom.”

There was something that looked like a salad topped with grilled meat on pita bread in the bag. It made a huge mess coming out, dripped dressing and meat juices everywhere and right then, Maria couldn’t be bothered to care. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes and almost started talking to her meal. It was hot, it was cold, it was spicy, it was tart – crunchy, soft – a total party in her mouth. “Mrmfph.” Suddenly, she was absolutely starving.

“You’re welcome.” Turning, he filched a cookie out of the smaller bag, something round and covered in powdered sugar that he popped it into his mouth. “We got you, Maria. Take a break.”

She didn’t argue, just sat and munched happily as she watched Barton boot up Gallaga.

“You jerks, I’m going to find out why you’re being so nice to me.”

“Aw hell, next time you get to come along for all the fun.”

She wasn’t sure when it happened, but as soon as the sandwich and pastries were consumed down to the crumbs and the fingers suitably licked clean of dressings and honey from the baklava, Maria discovered that Gallaga was really not suitable for keeping an audience awake after the day she’d had. Particularly not after two fingers of very nice scotch.

“I’ve got it, Maria.” _You already told me that, Natasha._

She remembered being told to find her bunk some time later, but nobody said a word about her falling asleep in her chair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the exercise - hope you liked it!


End file.
